


A Soldier In Training

by Midnight Rain (MidnightRains)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: BDSM elements, Bladder Control, Desperation, Desperation Play, Full Bladder Play, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Omorashi, bathroom play, dom!bellamy blake, sub!john murphy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24758146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightRains/pseuds/Midnight%20Rain
Summary: Bellamy Blake as a unique perspective on how to train a soldier. John Murphy is his soldier in training. Today's lesson is bladder control and humilation.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/John Murphy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	A Soldier In Training

**Author's Note:**

> Bathroom kink. If that's not your thing, hit the back button now. Otherwise, please read on.

“Drink, Murphy.” The words were not a suggestion. There was no debate to be had. He’d drank three gallons already, with explicit orders not to piss himself. “This is the last one for a while.” 

_For awhile._ Right. A while could be five minutes, or five hours. Tears already streamed down his face, from the effort of holding his bladder. His belly was tight and full, but not full enough according to Bellamy. 

The older boy gave Murphy a cold, hard look. _Drink or I will pour it down your throat_ is what that look said. Murphy knew he’d do it too, he’d done it before, when Murphy’s bladder training began. 

A soldier had to be able to hold it, after all. He couldn’t be out there pissing his pants when he was face to face with the enemy. So he drank. He drank, and he drank, and he drank until he cried from the pressure, and then he drank some more. 

He was naked, on his knees, hands behind his head if he wasn’t holding a bottle to his lips. Bellamy stroked his belly, feeling the growing bulge of his distended bladder. Measuring it with his hands, determining it wasn’t full enough, demanding Murphy drink more. 

Bellamy took hold of Murphy’s cock. He was half hard, and a few strokes in Bellamy’s grip had him stiff and throbbing. Murphy knew the drill, though. There would be no orgasm until he’d drank enough to satisfy Bellamy’s insane fetish to see him full and miserable.

It was also a cruel tactic, because the way Bellamy manhandled his cock, combined with a bit of pressure from his other hand against Murphy’s abdomen was designed to make him dribble a bit of piss. Bellamy pinched Murphy’s cock to halt the flow, watching as the boy struggled to regain his composure. 

“That earned you another bottle. Drink, Murphy.”

“No, please. I can’t.”

“Murphy.” There was a warning in that tone. Bellamy still held his cock, pinching, preventing further leakage. His other hand caressed Murphy’s belly, fingers soft and teasing over the stretched flesh. “Don’t make me restrain you.” 

“Please, sir. Please. I can’t take any more.” 

“One. Two.” If he got to three and Murphy didn’t have a bottle to his lips, water in his throat, Bellamy would assist him. Half the water would be lost down Murphy’s face, but that would just mean he’d have to take another bottle. And another after that if Bellamy wasn’t satisfied. 

His hands trembled as he reached for a bottle. He had to bend to get it, and oh fuck, the pressure on his bladder was unbearable. He would surely have pissed himself if Bellamy hadn’t been pinching his dick, denying the flow. 

With Bellamy holding his dick and caressing his distended belly, Murphy gulped down another bottle of water. Tears of frustration and desperation smeared his face, but he took in the entire bottle, another liter. 

“Good boy.” Bellamy patted his stomach. “I’m going to release you, and you are not going to piss.You have ten minutes to wait. You know what will happen if you fail.” 

Murphy nodded, and Bellamy released his hold. A single yellow bead of piss bubbled out of Murphy’s cock. Bellamy let that go without comment, but he smoothed his hand over Murphy’s cock, spreading that droplet a good bit. 

“You know it’s best to keep moving.” Bellamy put a foot to the middle of Murphy’s back and pushed him forward. “Hands and knees. You know I like to see you crawl.” Murphy grunted, barely catching himself with his hands to the ground. He shifted his weight, groaning as the pressure shifted in his belly. He instinctively clamped his legs together, tying desperately to hold his piss.

Bellamy smacked his ass, and used a foot to nudge his thighs apart.”Knees apart, soldier I want to see that cock bobbing between those thighs.” Murphy obeyed because the price of disobedience was to have a catheter set in his bladder, clamped shut to make sure he couldn’t void, for as long as Bellamy chose to torment him. At least this way, there was an end in sight. He just had to hold his piss for the next ten minutes while he crawled around on the floor, shaking his ass and rocking his hips to slosh the bladder around for Bellamy’s amusement. 

He lowered his head, arched his back, and fought like hell to keep his muscles clenched. An endless stream of tears streaked his face, and when Bellamy told him to stop and assume an upright position he nearly lost it. He held on, barely, as he shifted his body to rise up on his knees, hands behind his head as was the position Bellamy preferred. He crossed his ankles, and bowed his back to present his belly and his cock for Bellamy’s inspection. 

Bellamy knelt behind him, and slipped his own cock out of his pants. He rubbed himself between Murphy’s ass cheeks as his hands snaked around. One cradled Murphy’s swollen cock, the other, warm and probing, caressed his stomach. He moved to force Murphy to lean back against him, as his hand pressed on Murphy’s bladder. Murphy gasped, moaned, and whimpered all at once, and a spurt of piss ejected from his cock. 

Bellamy smacked the member, making it bob painfully against Murphy’s thighs. “Stop that. You don’t have permission yet.” 

“Please, Sir. I can’t...I’m going to burst.” 

Bellamy tsked his tongue, his breath hot against Murphy’s ear. “Two more minutes. You can hold it two more minutes.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Those two minutes were hellish torture. Bellamy assaulted him from all sides. He didn’t enter his ass, he wouldn’t without lube, and he hadn’t applied any. But he slid and pressed his cock against Murphy’s ass, all the while one hand idly stroked Murphy’s cock, and the other moved against his distended belly, poking and prodding, pressing down and squeezing, kneading, eliciting mewing sounds of desperation from Murphy. 

Finally his time was met, but that just meant he had to actually make it to the pot Bellamy allowed him to piss in, before he could actually void. “Go ahead.” All stimulation was withdrawn, and Murphy immediately dropped to hands and knees. He crawled, as Bellamy had taught him to do, making his bladder slosh with every move forward, until he reached the pot. Straddling it, still on his hands and knees, he made sure his cock was aimed to the opening and with a trembling cry, he let his bladder go.

The stream was so strong it hit the bottom of the pot and splashed back up to bathe Murphy’s belly in yellow. There was a plastic tarp underneath, so the spill wouldn’t ruin Bellamy’s floor. 

“Such a good soldier,” Bellamy told him. He’d put himself back into his pants before he crossed the room to his beautiful exhausted boy. When his stream finally ended, Murphy rolled over onto his back on the tarp, and waited for Bellamy to pour the contents of the pot over him, fully bathing his body. He would lay there until the piss dried on his skin before Bellamy would allow him to shower.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for The 100. I doubt it will be the last. 
> 
> Comments and constructive critiques welcome.


End file.
